


A Proposal

by allonsytotumblr



Series: Fëanor and Nerdanel Happy With No Angst At All [10]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Marriage Proposal, Young Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-20
Updated: 2018-04-20
Packaged: 2019-04-25 06:51:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14373261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allonsytotumblr/pseuds/allonsytotumblr
Summary: An offer, an answer, and what it means for both of them.





	A Proposal

**Author's Note:**

> Now, for those of you, who have been following these stories, maybe you’re like, “Wait, why are they getting married,, they literally just got together!” Aight, comrades, I KNOW, but again, I am trying to write these stories so they are all self contained- so someone could read any one and understand it on its own. So I’m not really following one plot. That being said, I do plan to fill in the time between the last one of these I wrote, (Warmth,) and this one, I just don’t have ideas yet. Hit me with prompts.

People have told Nerdanel that her statues were sometimes seen as their actual subjects, whether elf, plant, or animal. She hoped that it would be the same with this one, but at present, she felt that it would be lucky to be recognized for the sleeping cat that it was supposed to be, much less mistaken for a real creature. 

Nerdanel felt both despair, and fine marble dust settle on her as she set down her chisel. Someone opened the forge door behind her, and wished too late that she could cover her work. She hated showing her unfinished or imperfect crafts to anyone. But it was only Fëanor, and she pushed back her chair, comfortable with him viewing her mistakes as she did his- although there were not many on his part. Fëanor was very talented, the greatest smith since Aulë, some said.

Today he was nicely dressed, too well for the forge, Nerdanel noted as he looked at her little sculpture. At least he recognized it as a cat, even if his telling her that it was a perfect capture of feline grace was, of course, false.

“Why are you so fancily dressed today?” She asked. Gracious, even his jet black hair was braided more intricately than she ever did her own.

“Why are you so beautiful today?” Fëanor, countered. “I just came to see you.” 

Nerdanel, covered in the detritus of sculpting for hours, ignored the first part of his remark, though it pleased her. Instead she squinted at Fëanor, wondering what kind of answer to her question that was. Suspicious. He must be up to something, but she did not mind being pulled away from her work. 

“Nerdanel, I have one of my works to show you.” He opened one hand to reveal a small piece of jewelry, a ring. It was silver, and intricately crafted, thin silver bands twining around each other, to created an unbroken circle of precious metal. It was not polished to a highly reflective sheen as it was current fashion in metal working. Rather, it had a brushed look to it. It lent the ring a strong and unique look that she loved.

“Whom is it for?” She and Fëanor both helped her father out with commissions on occasion, and she wondered which lucky youth or maiden would receive such a beautiful gift from their beloved. 

“It is yours, if you will accept it,” he said. 

“But it is a betrothal ring, why would I-” her speech broke off, and her head spun. 

Fëanor’s hand not holding the ring wrapped around hers, his eyes meeting her shocked ones. “Nerdanel, I know that we are still very young, and yet, I love you, and if you feel as strongly as I do, then why should we not spend forever together?” He began to say more, his proposal not yet finished, and she was sure, very well thought out. But Fëanor, her darling Fëanor seemed so nervous, and he must be in agony, even as he spoke, waiting on her response, that she hastened to give it. 

Nerdanel threw her arms around him, her voice filled with joy as she said, “Yes! Yes, a thousand times yes.” She knew that they were young, barely adults, she knew that accepting a proposal from the king’s son meant incredible change to her life, that-so many things. She did not care. She was utterly in love. Nerdanel had always been wise, and she did not doubt that this decision was the right one. She knew that many would question her as the princes’ spouse, being neither noble, nor found beautiful, but disregarding all these things, she offered her hand to receive the ring and life he offered her. It fit her finger perfectly. He knew the size of her hands well.

“You know that you will be a queen now,” said Fëanor, as if the thought was just now occurring to him. 

“A small price to pay,” she replied.Indeed, Nerdanel often forget that Fëanor was royalty, that he had titles more than her friend, and recently, beloved. But she had thought of the responsibilities that would come with being queen, and this alone had held Nerdanel back from proposing to him. His choice of spouse could not be only for himself, but for all the Noldor. She had hoped, of course that he would think that she was worthy and ask her, and now- he had. 

“I warn you: most of it is comprised of very dull ceremonies.”

“If you must suffer through them as well, I shall not mind.” She would not be discomfited by anything, not even entering the upper class with its unknown rules, not if he was with her. 

“Even a wedding takes an eternity to arrange. First there must be the betrothal ceremonies, one public, one private. There are rehearsals for both of course, and a host of parties in between. Then comes-“ 

“Well, we must elope.”

“No, we must have a grand wedding, and you will have to wear a dress,” Fëanor told her seriously.

“Then I am inviting your Vanyar kin, all of them,” she replied, sticking her tongue out at him.

“Unacceptable, I revoke my proposal.” Fëanor seized her around the waist, and twirled her around, in a circle, her feet leaving the ground as if she were a child.

“Too bad, I already accepted. It is irrevocable.” They were behaving idiotically, but she did care. She was engaged, Nerdanel thought, looking at the new piece of jewelry on her hand. Engaged!

“This news will be quite a surprise to our parents,” Fëanor said to her. 

“Not my mother and father, for I told them about us months ago,” Nerdanel said.

“What!” He nearly fell off the bench they were sitting on.

“Yes, and should I not have?” Fëanor made no secret of the fact that he disliked his step mother, and that his relationship with his father had been distant ever since Finwë’s remarriage. He was as disconnected from them as a person living under the same roof could be. This grieved her, but Nerdanel respected Fëanor’s decision not to reveal their relationship. She knew that this was not born of his being ashamed of her, and did not mind so much, for she did not wish to deal with the public’s attention or chaperones that it would bring- only to wander the land, and speak with Fëanor freely. 

But with her own parents she had always been very open, and speaking about her and Feanor was no different. Save for revealing the many times she had climbed out of her window during Telperion’s hours to meet Feanor, Nerdanel had told them everything soon after she and Fëanor became involved. 

“And what did they say?” Fëanor asked. What a question- as if they would have disapproved of him!

“Only that you were a nice youth. Oh, and my father that he was glad things were finally all out in the open, for if you kept staring at me when we were supposed to be working, you would end up injuring yourself severely.” 

“I never did such a thing,” her intended replied, in a dignified manner. 

“I would not have minded if you did.” As they spoke, Nerdanel’s fingers twisted her ring around her finger, feeling a thrill with each circle it made. Marriage, to join her soul to another’s forever- and not just any soul, but one that burned as brightly as Fëanor’s did. To be as close to his mind as she was to her own, and to never, never be parted from him. What an enormous thing to have agreed to. She could not even properly imagine what this next stage of her life would be like, but she did not need her second sight to tell her that their life together would be a happy one, for she felt it in her heart as their hands reached for each other at the same moment, intertwining as their bodies and souls would. 

“I love you,” Nerdanel said suddenly, into their peaceful silence. “Truly,” she added. She was not as forthcoming with this phrase as Fëanor, who used it so often that she would have doubted his sincerity if he had been anyone else. “I believe what you told me about court rules, and yet our wedding day cannot come soon enough.” 

Since they were going to be married, Nerdanel would have to get used to saying such openly romantic and blatantly mushy things, but for now she lightened the mood by adding, “now leave me, I have your betrothal ring to forge.”

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea what human emotion feels like, I’m just pulling this out of thin air, so.


End file.
